Jack Scott

2016-02-20 12:00 am

Jack Scott

2016-02-14 12:00 am

Gord

2015-10-07 12:00 am

Child, write.
Pages alone cannot set alight,
For words have not oxygen,
Yet provide an ignition.
Catalyzing transmissionless engines.
Breath of the new age,
Where fire is unimaginable. 
Cold air his the vestibule,
Concerned with that visible, and indivisible.
The world turns to a glued page,
Lamenting a future caged, and unchanged.

Gord

2015-02-25 12:00 am

Gold dinar seemingly portrayed free,
Creased jeans denote not experience,
Nor worn strings of the old guitar.
Popular opinion seems to be,
Gold crowns hold some sentience,
Power, However is only an art;
Movement of heart is truly living,
Prudent hopefuls, human beings,
Students convalesce upon the sea,
Trading complacence for femininity;

Gord

2015-01-02 12:00 am

Statue of Liberty, underwater.
Can you not tell leeches, 
From a pair of cites?
Who is deaf? Who is right?
Store owners know before government:
Change doesn't happen overnight,
Especially for the blind, my love.
Over pennies we start the fight.

Gord

2014-10-16 12:00 am

Poets quickly release material albums,
Teachers equate material sophism as equal:
Knowledge concrete, belief in Calvin.
Topped off dressed in a top-hat and sequins;

Aharon Yosef

2014-10-05 12:00 am

Twisted moment making maidens kill heirs,
Violent hatred found only in pairs,
Dea, a deo exigitur, et deo accitos a mater.
Words that confine us will lead us to birth,
Sounds of the first man were cast upon Earth.
Cum dea exhorrent, cum dea so fair.
Cum dea horret, she shakes away care.

The Paraffin One

2014-09-18 12:00 am

Classlessly the entire generation asks,
Perchance who is to breathe this air?
Perhaps they know not of gasses,
How easy they are to acquire, wherever.
Why not just call someone a thief?
Why not a liar, or simple cheat?
For selling someone a leaf,
Calling gold that found among peat.
Couldn't ignorance be but a plea?
With no common ground to stand,
Everything you see marketing fleas,
Ticks suddenly drop in market demand.
Concept, is a concept if you understand conception.
The epitome of tomorrow claim they never got the lesson.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

Complacency, 
A transformative lyric.
Appear differently,
Every time you see it.
Feel questions,
Appearance less glee,
It just gets to me,
Questions my career:
Rhyming a chair,
with chairs a little less green.

The Sophist

2014-07-30 12:00 am

Yawn,
A boring thought,
Moving on.

Blah,
The time we've fought,
Force mignon,
For nei' were strong.

Plod,
Reason/not,
Such are battles,
Which we ought,
Discard to dogs,
Trained to chew them.

Humdrum,
Through coral caught,
Stone filled satchels,
Path danger fraught,
Mind's a fog,
Not mad at you though,
I'm only mad duly.

Doldrums,
I wish it would stop,
I'm mad at myself,
For letting this rot,
I'm not just licking frogs,
My croak at the moon shows,
I only care truly,
If you care about you.

Pedestrian,
Living life at the top,
Panopticon cell,
And fuck is it hot,
But we sit writing songs,
I croak at the moon slow,
We make a pair fool-ly,
Sympathetic,
Two lives out of tune,
At different ends of the spectrum,
Beauty ensuing.

Apostates to our parents' dreams,
Too old for pride, 
But maybe peace.
We'll love in long strides,
A boring thought,
Despite defeat,
We still move on,
Lows bolstering highs,
Finding new regimes.

Gord

2014-07-25 12:00 am

The red sand on the red planet.
A new home for those disbanded?
The pack is no longer accepting of animals.
Acceptance is a past participle,
Placing indiscriminates in wheelchairs.
Athletes teaming, forced to be there:
It's more austere for those committed.
Picture this: A world full of autism,
With no conviction to tackle the problem.
As in, 
Extremism only applies to what I love.
Only the things I love matter,
No matter to kindred doves,
No pitter-patter,
No kids in love,
 because it's considered disgusting.
Life only applies to what I want.
When I want.
So give me the rights of the fully retarded.

The Sophist

2014-07-21 12:00 am

See depths of apathy,
In lengths of hair,
Like half of me there,
Other half in'other room,
Gaping blankly it stares there too,
Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off
 in my mind,
See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas,
'splayed 'round the front of my being,
All this beauty is mine,
Even you are in the bounty,
You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath
 my feet.
You move me.
You are a seed that grew toward this
 ever-falling tree.
Freedom gnaws at nature,
A crutching being what's need.

The Sophist

2014-07-15 12:00 am

Belly poked by intrauterine demise -
 infanticide - now I can poke her in her
 thighs. I fantasized that maybe the baby
 would have cried, or that I would have
 stopped it, crazy by the pain I feel inside.
 Now I swear there's nothing there. I lost the
 key to the divine.

I dreamed a life of orgies but my sex life is
 austere. Who cares? I drink nightly, and dream
 of an affair with a tryst. I jot prose for love
 not there and recite them to the one that I
 declare. I'm sick from life; to levy death is
 fair. I'm too sick to spread my sickness. Give
 them death, who fucking cares?

The Sophist

2014-05-20 12:00 am

"Perchance to make music to move them.
Your music is blandly, boringly, gruesome."

"Your attitude's gruesome. Perchance to make music to sooth 
them of their hideous minds lost in loathsome confusion. Let 
me be eaten by dogs if it means not bowing to the flogs cast 
by unjust retribution. Perchance to be cat's paw; to flog 
yarn worlds strewn loose by melodic volution."

"Your mind's in dilution. All these ideals are depraved 
convolutions."

"My mind's in Confucians. I seek absolution while you seek 
out a stage to pimp tone prostitution. Fucking air pollution 
is what it is, no good contribution in the vast 
distribution of data and discs."

"You're best substitution; you just add trills or a long
resolution."

"I swear I do more than just posture and bull shit with 
forms and techniques, curse your persecution!"

"Curse us. Goodbye, writ of execution!"

The Sophist

2014-04-16 12:00 am

Ohm, I wish to be Austere,
For if I knew I was her end,
I truly wouldn't care.

Ohm, I wish to be the air,
To float where she has fun,
For truly there is none,
If in life she isn't there,

Ohm, I wish to be the Pleiades,
Forever sailing ones,
Sailing to my maiden's needs.

Ohm, I with to be Pellucid,
An interest in her sight,
To cloud her camera obscura.

Ohm, I wish to be Polaris,
In dark her warmest light,
Beaming through her apertures.

The Sophist

2014-03-25 12:00 am

Dammit, why?
Scenes go by when hips moved side by side,
Striding by wayside before waving good-bye,
Parallel shutting her eyes;
My shoulders shudder when boats pass me by.
Before air was too dry,
Before I was too late to try,
To crack a smile to the heavens wry,
Asking why.
Dammit, why?

The Sophist

2014-03-12 12:00 am

Seek introspection elsewhere.
I'm here to burn my hands on incense smoke,
Telling God stories of my trysts,
Of all the times he missed.
To a world I doubt is there
I'm yelling my plans to an absent bloke,
telling God stories of my dick,
Of all the dames I dream it chokes.
Vocals crack on air,
The priest is watching alone.
I stare the beast in his eyes,
and keep yelling despite.
I draw a circle, a square,
Triangle, circle, and begin to invoke,
Two homunculi inside,
The smallest circle defined.
Behold, contrast and compare,
Presenting the Philosophers Stoned,
Their knowledge is blinded,
And wisdom unwound.
Priest still watching me stare,
I rub ash on my forehead and go,
To the front of the alter,
No foot dare to falter,
I scream and still nobody's there.

<img src="https://www.aspoet.com/src/img/avatars/philosopherstone.gif" height=300 width=300></img>

The Sophist

2014-03-07 12:00 am

Bueller, Bueller, Bueller
Pews faced to view the fooler
Tools taken from the tooler
Put online to try and school her

Austerity, Austerity, Austere
A cry that no-one cares to
Words with fares to blare through
Worlds unfair to tear through

Heaven, Heaven, Above
A thought I think the world of
If nothing comes from nothing
What are acts of love?